Picking Teams
by Gevaudan
Summary: Owen defends Ianto's performance in the field to an uncertain Jack.
1. Chapter 1

Picking Teams

All characters belong to the BBC

Author's note: I was rewatching some old Torchwood (They Keep Killing Suzie) and Owen says "I'd pick her for my team" about Suzie, and for some reason this line really stuck with me. A few episodes later and Owen is ordering Ianto front and centre of his team to shoot the fish man. Now I'm no tactician but I'm guessing that Owen trusted "the teaboy" to get the shot if needed, and so Ianto must have somehow proved himself. This is my take on the history behind why Owen picks him.

Its unbetaed but sprung into my head almost fully formed today and I had to get in down quickly so it would leave me alone!

Set post Countrycide between the drive home and Owen going back to his flat.

Rated for one naught word from Owen's potty mouth.

This is my first Torchwood Fic so please be kind.

/\\\

There was a knock on the office door; with a sigh Jack shifted his attention from the golden depths of the untouched glass of whisky he was staring into, and tried to return his thoughts and focus to the present day.

"Come in Owen," he called, already identifying his medic's unmistakable sharp rap.

Owen looked tired, he noticed immediately as the younger man entered, in fact they all did. Spending the weekend chasing, and being chased, by a village of cannibals was bound to have that effect.

With a sigh, Owen dropped into the chair opposite Jack, gratefully accepting the glass the Captain pushed his way.

"Four broken ribs, a concussion, a broken nose, numerous cuts and bruises and trauma to his spleen leading to some internal bleeding," he listed flatly, as Jack listened in increasing horror, "It's a miracle he got back to the hub before he fell on the floor."

The memory of that moment jumped unbidden into both men's minds. Ianto had shuffled into the Hub after the rest of the team, his face bearing the bruises of his encounter with the butt of a shotgun. He had immediately headed for the kitchen mumbling something about getting a coffee for everyone, although Owen had protested he needed something stronger. None of the team had thought anything about his departure until a thud, and the tinkle of breaking china had sent them running to the kitchen to find the young Welshman sprawled across the floor surrounded by broken mugs, his face ashen. In that moment Jack's heart had skipped a beat, and he stood frozen, certain that the pallor of Ianto's face could only indicate one thing. It was only Owen's harried shout that had forced him to move again, as he scooped Ianto into his arms and rushed him to the autopsy room, all the while pleading with him to wake up under his breath.

As soon as he had laid Ianto onto the table Owen had brusquely ordered him, as well as Gwen and Tosh out of the room so he could work. Now, three hours later, the girls had been sent home with the promise that he would update them as soon as there was news, and Jack had retreated to his office to nervously wait for news of the Welshman's condition.

"How is he?" he asked finally, not sure really that he was ready to hear the answer.

"Bloody lucky that I'm so brilliant."

His worries notwithstanding, Jack couldn't help but roll his eyes at Owen's arrogance. Owen ignored him and carried on.

"Someone will have to wake him up every hour tonight, check he's still firing on all cylinders, but honestly, I think he'll be fine."

"Physically at least," Jack murmured, remembering the dread filled eyes that had pierced his eyes as he'd hurtled through the wall on a tractor. He continued, almost absently, as if suddenly unaware of the medic sat opposite him, "I think it's best if he doesn't come out again with us."

Jack wasn't really expecting a response at all, let alone Owen's sudden, vociferous protest.

"Are you kidding Jack? After what he did today? The kid did good and you're going to stick him back on coffee duty?"

"He was nearly killed Owen!" Jack pointed out, his voice taught with anger and frustration, "He's not trained enough to be in the field, and today proved that. He was absolutely terrified, and if you think I'm putting him through that again then you need to think again."

Owen exhaled angrily, pushing himself to his feet to pace round the office.

"Do you even know what he did today, Jack?" he asked, his voice laced with tension, "how he ended up being used as a punchbag for a psychopath?"

Jack didn't respond, just silently held Owen's gaze as he continued to pace.

"No? Tosh filled me in earlier while you and Gwen were wasting your afternoon trying to get sense out of a nutcase. He created a distraction, so that Tosh could get away and find us, and strangely enough there wasn't a whole lot of options for doing that. So what did your "terrified teaboy" do eh Jack?"

Owen clearly didn't expect an answer to the question, certain that he knew more than Jack about what had befallen the other half of the Torchwood team.

Jack hadn't yet discussed with Toshiko what had occurred as her and Ianto had searched for the SUV, but he was forced to admit that he had automatically assumed that any escape plan would have been formulated by the computer genius and the receptionist's injuries were the result of an inability to keep up. He was beginning to regret his hasty judgement as Owen continued.

"He put his life on the line and took a beating so that she could get away and get help. And yes, he was scared, hell who wouldn't be? But he still made the best decision he could, not to save himself, or to avoid some pain, but the best decision to help the team, and to save Tosh! And that's really _fucking_ brave Jack, even more so considering that he's trained as an archivist not a field agent and he's working with a team that shot his girlfriend not a million years ago!"

Owen seemed suddenly surprised by his own impassioned defence of Ianto, who was more usually the target of the medic's barbed comments, and stopped his pacing. He voice dropped as he turned and left the room to return to his patient, leaving his final comment hanging in the air.

"You do what you want Jack, but you can be damn sure I'd pick him for my team."


	2. Chapter 2

Picking Teams

All characters belong to the BBC

Author's note: This is set shortly after Jack's disappearance at the end of S1.

Thank you so much for all the reviews, alert adds and favouritings of this story! I am revising for exams and TW is my escape so it made me all fuzzy inside! So here's a short one shot sequel. I'm also working on another conversation between Owen and Jack but it will appear as a separate story.

/\\\

"Owen?" the tentative question was almost lost amid the sounds of frantic typing emanating from one of the many keyboards that littered Tosh's workstation.

Owen sighed and bit down on a frustrated and probably about-to-be-unkind retort. He knew what was coming, they all did, but another surge in rift activity was not Tosh's fault and he had to stop shooting the messenger.

"Yes Tosh?" he finally ground out.

"Weevils again, I'm afraid. Six of them, in the playground in Splott," she typed some more rapid-fire codes before rising to her feet. "I've sent the postcode to the SUV navigation system."

Owen reached across his desk for the stun gun he had left discarded on their return from their previous foray – less than an hour ago.

"What could they possibly want in a children's playground?" Gwen mused, as she hunted around for her own weapon, hidden amongst a pile of reports.

"I imagine it's the swings. A few years ago I'd have said the roundabout, but they got rid of that. Health and Safety apparently." Ianto's crisp Welsh vowels were full of humour, as he reached over to catch the sheaf of papers Gwen had sent tumbling to the floor.

"Yes, I imagine that's it Ianto" rebuked Owen, his voice laden with sarcasm, "Alien life from all over the galaxy is coming through the rift to Earth to try out the swings!" he paused, then softened, ever so slighty, "Well, it's as good as reason as any I suppose."

Gwen watched the exchange with fond amusement. She couldn't say just when after Jack's departure it had occurred but there had been a definite change in Ianto. Not outwardly of course, no matter how casually everyone else dressed he still arrived in his full suit, still terrifyingly early in the morning. But his demeanour was certainly different. It had been a subtle, gradual change; the offer of a witty riposte to Owen's sarcastic rants, his new tendency to join in with the CCTV "Snog Watch" on a Friday night (Owen remained convinced it was a viable seasonal alternative to Spring Watch for the BBC), the development of his surprising talent for thinking up hilarious and often, frankly shockingly rude names for their occasional trips to the local pub quiz.

It suited him, being part of the team, Gwen realised, and she regretted not noticing sooner that he had spent so long on the outskirts of their banter. Watching him and Owen trade quick grins it became clear to her that despite the difficulties, not least the rise in rift activity and the killer overtime hours, Jack's departure had at least one benefit. With a start, she suddenly realised she had been staring at the two men for a moment longer that was strictly proper, even accounting for the Torchwood team's admittedly loose grasp of the concept of personal space.

Owen in the meantime had not noticed her attention, busy as he was rummaging in his desk. Without looking up, he questioned Ianto.

"So teaboy? What's on the agenda for the evening for you?

"Ohhh... I don't know, clearing up after you lot, trying to perfect my new computer translator program for putting your reports into comprehensible English, maybe some filing?"

"Nails or reports?" Owen queried without skipping a beat. Without giving Ianto chance to respond he straightened, triumphantly, and tossed the fruits of his search to the Welshman who deftly caught it in one hand.

It was a stun gun, Ianto realised as he looked down at it. He couldn't even begin to fathom why it was in Owen's desk, not the armoury, but thought it safest not to ask.

"Broken?" he queried.

"Shouldn't be," Owen replied with a grin, "Wouldn't be much use to you if it was. No, you need some fresh air Ianto, before you turn into an archive content yourself, and we need a hand, what do you say?"

Ianto faltered for a moment; conversations with Jack in the past had made it perfectly clear that he was only needed in the field if the world was literally crumbling around them. Since their encounter with the cannibals in fact, he had only been back out once, and only then because Jack had deemed that the weevil he had been sent to track was probably the least dangerous thing roaming Cardiff that day.

"Are you sure?" he asked tentatively, "Jack was nev..."

Owen cut him off.

"Jack isn't here," he pointed out, "and sometimes Jack can be wrong. Actually Jack can be wrong a lot of the time, but that's beside the point. At the moment it's my team and I say that I'm picking you to be on it. Are you coming?"

Ianto put the remainder of his half formed objections to the back of his mind. He had been trained for this at Torchwood One. Hell, he'd met Jack helping him wrestle a Weevil to the ground, something the Captain seemed to have conveniently forgotten. His constant role of dogsbody and coffee boy had long since worn thin, it was time to start seeing some action.

With a grin of uncharacteristic glee, he lifted the stun gun, tested its weight and put on his best "action hero" voice.

"Make my day!"

Owen sighed. He'd created a monster.


End file.
